Game of Thrones: The Lost Chapters
by KamillaBecca
Summary: The stories and adventures of lost characters in the land of Westeros come together to create The Lost Chapters. Find the secretes and understanding of your beloved characters and new found loved characters in this epic adventures. See who truly ends up on the Throne.
1. Chapter 1: Riya Denwarn

**Riya Denwarn**

The journey from the Wall was cold and tiring. Riya could no longer feel the aching of her bottom cheeks. Aching turned to numbness. The cold was a bitter wind. She began to wonder why she had agreed to travel to Winterfell alongside Benjen Stark. Her excitement she had before leaving had all but disappeared. She had read many books about Winterfell and was anxious to see it for herself. She hadn't expected such a journey to be this gruesome.

"How much longer Benjen?" Riya asked as she adjusted herself in the saddle.

"Just up ahead," Benjen replied with a snicker as he watched her squirm. He looked forward and let out a sigh. He was happy to be home again. Riya looked up from the reins to see the flames of torches in the distance. Benjen and Riya stopped to look down at the kingdoms walls.

"Welcome Lady Denwarn, to Winterfell," he smiled as he turned to her. Riya observed the walls protecting the small town inside. She began to trace the granite walls. Her bright hazel eyes came across the drawbridge that when opened would slam down to the other side by the outer village. It was exactly what she had pictured while reading the descriptions in her books. Riya thought it was magnificent. Not as nice as the Elven Realm but certainly better than the home she had been moved into inside the Wall. Not to mention it was a bit warmer here, not by much but still better than the ice cold. Riya snapped back to reality when Benjen took off in his jet black horse. Riya gave a smile and kicked her horse to catch up with him.

When they rode inside, Riya looked around. She turned as Benjen jumped off his horse and tied it to the post near the troff. He then made his way to the side of Riya's horse and reached out his arms. Riya brought her other leg over from the opposite side and placed her small gentle hands on Benjen's shoulders. Benjen grabbed her by the waist and put her on the ground. Riya watched him as he tied up her brown steed and came to stand beside her.

"Uncle Benjen!" a young man's voice called out. Benjen and Riya looked over. She looked at the boy. He had black curled hair to his shoulders. His body was thin with some muscle and he had a strong bone structure with brod shoulders. Benjen quickly jolted to the boy and gave him a hug.

"Jon Snow. I've missed you much!" Benjen chuckled as he gripped onto the boys shoulder. Riya remained quiet and still until Benjen turned to look at her. The boy's eyes soon met hers. They were dark. The name Snow mean bastard in the north. He truly had the eyes and looks of a Stark.

"This fair maddens name is Riya Denwarn," Benjen introduced.

"Denwarn? As in the Gathonian Denwarn?" Jon asked with curious eyes. Riya shied away.

"Yes. I am the sister of the infamous Nadia Denwarn that I'm sure you have heard plenty about Lord Snow, bastard of Eddard Stark," Riya said without emotion. Jon went quiet. He looked down in shame of being called a bastard. Riya observed him closely. Benjen let out a sigh and gave him a tap on the back. Jon Snow soon shook it off and looked back at his uncle.

"When will you talk to father about the Night's Watch?" Jon asked. Benjen smiled and looked off. His gaze came back to the anxious young boy.

"The wall is no place for a boy Jon," Benjen replied. Jon bit his lip.

"I am no boy, I am fourteen. I am a full grown man. I can do this," Jon said. Benjen looked at Jon. His eyes were full of begging. Only something a puppy would do. Benjen let out a sigh.

"We shall see," Benjen said before making his way inside. Riya stood there still looking at Jon. He turned and saw her. He then picked up his sword and stormed over to a training dummy set up by the stalls. Riya watched him for a moment longer before she made her way inside.

Inside was nothing special. A regular celebration of men. Whores roamed the isles as the men waved to them. Some of the men toppled over in their seats and spilt their pint all over them. As Riya observed the intoxicated men she came across one special one. Robert Baratheon. King of the Seven Kingdoms and drunken fool of whores. She had never seen the King and at this moment she wished she hadn't.

"Observing our King?" a firm voice said behind her. Riya turned back to see an approaching woman. She looked down and smiled at Riya as she turned back to look at Robert. Riya said nothing.

"My apologies, I hadn't thought to introduce myself. My name is Selda Amcottes," she said with a smile. Riya looked at her nervously. She had heard of the Amcottes family. Some say they are evil and tricksters other say they are hero's to the realm.

"You must be a Denwarn? You are not so beautiful so you can not be the infamous Nadia," Selda said as she observed Riya's face. Riya wasn't offended. She got that a lot. She waited a moment longer for Selda.

"Of course, you are the younger sister. Riya. I have heard much of you. Smartest woman in all of Westeros. Or so they say," Selda stated as she turned back to look at the crowd. Riya was surprised she had known it was her. For a moment Riya did not know how to communicate with such a woman. She was right hand to the queen and she had talked ill of the King.

"Do you not love your King?" Riya asked. Selda looked up.

"I love the idea of the King. I do not love who portrays him. But I am yet an observer and second hand in the court," Selda smiled. Riya looked over at the drunken King.

"Maybe you shouldn't speak so ill. The wrong person may hear you," Riya warned. Selda gave another smile and began to retreat from her post beside the young girl. Riya watched the woman slowly make her way through the halls. A mysterious woman no doubt.

It wasn't long before Riya got bored with watching the drunk men and her King. Riya turned and left outside the doors she entered from. As she walked outside she heard the clings of a sword. Her gaze followed the noise to the still angered Jon Snow. Riya thought back to his conversation with Benjen. An idea to talk with the boy came to mind and she made her way closer to him.

Riya took a seat on one of the barrels. She watched him carefully. His black hair bounced with his motion. Her interest in sword practicing was one that was slim. She only knew a little bit about holding a sword. She had tried once before in the elven realm but even with the light elven steel she was not able to keep the sword up. It did not bother her of her weakness to wield it. She had no care for it. Books and writing was all she knew and she liked it that way. In her mind, Riya believed there were too many people that could wield a sword and too little that can read and write. Riya let go of her thoughts and stood. She took two steps closer and watched Jon slowly raise his sword. Jon stopped his sword in midair as he sensed her presence.

"What do you want?" Jon snapped. Riya sighed.

"It is not what I want but what you want, bastard," Riya replied. Jon slowly turned to face her.

"You wield a sword like a true man but you're only half of one. I don't believe you have must use here. Catelyn Tully hates you. Your father can barely be with you. You're just another person unwanted here," Riya paused. Jon looked down at the ground in shame.

"You know this. This is why you desire a position in the nights watch, is it not?" Riya asked. Jon looked back at her and nodded. Riya gave a chill and quickly rubbed her arms for warmth. Jon watched her and grabbed his fur on the barrel. He handed it out to her. Riya looked down at it then back at him. She had not seen such a kind gesture.

"I will see what I can do Lord Snow," she said before walking back into the castle. Jon lowered his fur. He took another second before giving a suddle smile.


	2. Chapter 2: Selda Amcottes

The feast was long and full of drunken men and filthy Northern whores. This was no place of a royal welcome.

Selda sat beside her queen watching the foolish people of the North. The two southern women would sit there and scold at the reckless people who brought no entertainment for the queen and her steed. Selda traced the room in front of her. How people could be so happy was a surprise to her. She believed it was rude to do such things in the presence of their monarchy. The North was no place Selda would ever want to be again. As she watching the people parade around, she turned to Cersei. She was sitting like a true ruler but had the look on her face of disappointment and sadness. Selda followed her gaze to Robert.

"I see Robert enjoys the northern wine a little too much," she said before grabbing her cup and drinking. After her sip she pulled it down and gave a disgusted look into the cup. She quickly rolled her eyes and placed it down. Cersei smiled.

"Must you always be so queer?" she asked with a chuckle. Selda looked at her then back into the crowd.

"Oh please, I am more of a lady than any of these northerners. They spend too much time in the cold, its beginning to fiddle with their minds," Selda responded as she leaned back in her chair.

"These northerners are my people and I belive they are lovely all around." Cersei and Selda turned to see the auburn haired maiden of Eddard Stark. Catelyn Tully was her name. Her hair was put back in a braid and she wore what seemed to be her best robes. Her eyes were blue and she had freckles with fair skin.

"My apologies my lady," Selda said with a smile. Catelyn nodded then sat down on the other side of Cersei. Cersei looked at her and smiled.

"Word is that you and I may share a grandchild someday," Cersei stated with a smile as she looked down at the children's table. Catelyn sighed and looked down.

"Sansa truly is a beautiful girl lady Stark," Selda said as she gazed upon the auburn haired child of Catelyn and Eddard. Selda moved her gaze across the table to see Cersei's son, Joeffery. Selda thought he was an ugly child but kept it to herself. She liked to think of him as **deformed**. He was a rude child too, not in public. He was soon to be King; Cersei believes he needs the stubbornness to hold strong on the throne. Selda believed otherwise. She hated him. He was too rude and stubborn to be a King. Selda always said to herself that he would be the next 'Mad King'.

Selda found herself bored with the talk of future King's and Queen's and decided to go on a stroll. For Selda, a stroll meant snooping. She began to make her way down the hallways. The stone was a dark grey and it was ugly. She was used to Kings Landing's beautiful marble stone and large open spaces. As she walked down the hallways she came across a balcony facing north. She stepped onto it and looked out to the open sky. Selda slowly closed her eyes. She took in too deep breaths and let them out slowly. As she opened her eyes she looked out at the distance. She glared upon the Wall. She had never seen it before. She slowly rested her elbow onto the ledge and glared at it. Her eyes have never came across something so magnificent. Selda was slowly learning to like the North.

As the cold winds began to become unbearable, Selda decided to seek a fire. She made her way further down the hallway to an empty bedroom. She looked around.

"Hello?" she called out. No answer. She then made her way into the room, closing it behind her. Selda looked around the room. It must have been one of the Stark children's rooms. It was too well kept to be any other. She looked around further to see a torch. She grabbed it then placed it over the fire. As it lit she began to close her eyes again. She whispered under her breath and sang:

_The winds of north_

_The heat of south_

_Come together and heave almighty warmth_

_Blow, the wind does_

_Spark, the heat does_

_Come, come please come_

With her final words a force sparked from the torch in her hand and the fire blazed up. She jumped back in shock. Her heart began to race. Selda found herself feeling light headed. She put the torch back where she found it and collapsed onto the edge of the bed. Suddenly she began to feel her throat tighten. Something was supposed to be coming up but it couldn't. Her throat tightened harder and she found herself struggling for air. She quickly collapsed and began to gasp. Selda held her throat and began to motion her thumbs. Her neck untightened and she began to cough. The cough was terrifying and it made her quiver. When she was done she rose from the ground. She looked down at her hands to find them covered in blood. Her gaze moved to a bowl of water where she looked down at her reflection. Her mouth was covered in blood. She cursed then quickly began to take the cloth on the side and wash her hands and face. When she was cleaned up she tossed the cloth and dumped the water out the window. She took a quick breath and leaned against the table in the room.

"So it's true what they say." A small voice said in the corner of the room. Selda jumped and quickly glared at the dark figure. The figure stepped forward to reveal Arya Stark. The youngest daughter of Catelyn and Eddard. The only child aside from Jon Snow who looked nothing like her mother.

"How long have you been standing there?" Selda asked. Arya jumped onto the bed. Behind her pet dire wolf jumped on as well. Selda squealed at the sight of it.

"Don't worry, she won't hurt you. Not while I'm here. Lay down Nymeria," she said as she turned to the wolf. The wolf slowly settled down next to her. Arya then began to pet her.

"This is your room I'm guessing," Selda said as she slowly sat down in the chair next to the fire.

"Yes, what are you doing in here?" Arya asked. Selda shrugged.

"I was looking for a place to sit by a fire. The hall is too crazy. Full of drunks and common whores, so I found this place," Selda responded as she looked around. A moment of silence came to the two of them.

"You're a member of the Amcottes family. Old Nan has told us many stories," Arya shared. Selda smirked as she tried to regain the strength she lost.

"And what has Old Nan told you?" Selda asked.

"That the Amcottes practice black magic. She told me that during the rebellion Gaffer Amcottes cast a dark spell on Aerys Targaryen after his wife killed herself. She said that was the reason his death came easy to Jamie Lannister," Arya responded. Selda said nothing.

"Old Nan tells good stories. But she isn't exactly correct on that one," Selda said before slowly rising from her chair.

"But it's true you're family practices black magic, correct?" Arya asked. Selda turned to look at the anxious girl. Something about Arya made Selda happy. She hadn't seen a girl like her.

"I must be going now. I can tell you a few stories of my own some other time," Selda said before leaving. As she walked through the halls back down to the main hall, she began to wonder what other stories Old Nan has said. It was a mystery all the same.


	3. Chapter 3: Riya Denwarn

It was morning in Winterfell and the weather seemed much better. The wind gave a slight chill.

Riya stepped out of the main entrance to the hall of Winterfell. She was dressed in her fur coat and she was ready to leave. Winterfell was a nice town. Cold and old but nice. The dark stones always made it feel like nighttime. She had been at Winterfell for four nights and she was all but ready to depart. Events occurred that made her mysterious to this place. The youngest son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Stark had fallen from a building after climbing quite a ways up. The mystery was one that ran through her mind. The boy was a cripple now.

After her gaze upon the castle walls for the last time, Riya made her way to her horse when she saw a familiar face. Tryion Lannister began to make his way out from Winterfell's library. She had known him from a previous visit in the forest around the Elven Realm. She had taken a special liking to the dwarf. He was short and stubby with a jutting forehead. His hair was a white blonde color different from his sister and brother as well as the rest of the Lannisters. His eyes were two different colors. One black and one green. Despite his appearance, Riya loved him. She quickly made her way around the horse to go see him.

"Tyrion! I was not informed of your presence," Riya said as she placed her hands behind her back and smiled at him. Tyrion grew a large smile and grabbed her hand. He gave it a gentle kiss and held it with both hands.

"My fair madden. I have not seen you in six years. I was wondering how you have been. What are you doing here?" Tyrion questioned as he gestured for her to walk. The two stood side by side as they trailed the rest of Winterfell's court.

"I came here with Benjen. I wanted to see Winterfell and Nadia insisted that I explore the outside world. All I have ever known is the realm and Castle Black. It's a shit hole really," Riya chuckled. Tyrion joined her.

"I have made arrangements. It appears I will be joining you on this journey to Castle Black. I wish to see this shit hole for myself," Tyrion laughed again. Riya gave a smile as she looked at Tyrion lifting his stubby legs.

When the two trailed back to their horses, Riya watched as Tyrion was boosted up on his. A smile grew on her face as she looked around once more. She soon spotted Jon Snow saying his goodbye's to his family. Riya knew that if she asked Benjen one more time he would arrange it. It took her every night to convince him. She was glad to see that he finally said yes.

"Riya," a voice said. Riya looked over to see Jon Snow standing there with a large smile.

"I wanted to thank you for helping convince my uncle," Jon Snow said. Riya jumped up on her horse and looked down at him.

"You can thank me now Lord Snow but I know that this thank you will disappear once we reach Castle Black," Riya said before kicking her horse. Jon Snow looked down in confusion then jumped up on his.

As they were leaving the walls of Winterfell, two groups began to split. One headed north to the Wall and the other headed south to King's Landing. In the North group, Benjen, Tyrion, Jon, Riya, three of Tyrion's men, two members of the Nights Watch and six new recruits for the Wall traveled close. For the South, Cersei, Robert, Eddard, Selda and the rest of the southern children and company made their way. Jon and Eddard had stopped too speak words with one another before their final departing. Riya looked back and stopped her horse to wait for the young bastard. When they parted Jon Snow traveled next to Riya.

The cold returned, this time more harsh then before. The wind was more fierce and the snow much taller. The white grounds were of no comfort to anyone. Not even Benjen and Riya could stand such cold weather. Riya had her face full covered. All that was seen were her piercing eyes that were once hazel but are now a dark brown. Cold gnawed at their insides like hungry rats. Even their thick furs were no match for the angered cold winds. Riya could barely feel her fingers underneath the thick gloves she had on. She slowly attempted to adjust herself in the saddle. It felt as if her whole body was asleep. There was no good to this hell.

"We rest here," Benjen announced. The rest of the group rode to the side of the road. Benjen spotted a small stream. Around it bits of land were shown. Riya hopped off her horse and looked around observing the trees. The Elven realm was located in the forest by The Last River. Within the realm, snow never fell. It was perfect temperature. Riya could tell that the water had flowed from within the Elven realm.

It wasn't long before everyone began to settle down. Food was being made over a small fire. Riya kept from it. She was not hungry. She began to think of her father. When she was younger, her father used to take her and Nadia down the streams. They would follow them to the end. The memory was one that always put a smile on Riya's face. Her eyes followed the flow of the water. Sitting by the edge, she took a stick and swayed it through the water. Riya leaned her head against her knee that was raised up. She began to hum a tune from an elven song she had heard with the realm. Behind her sat a curious Jon Snow. He sat there and watched as she played with the water and hummed her heart away. He found the song quiet beautiful.

"What is this song you hum?" Jon asked curiously. Riya did not raise her head to look at the bastards face.

"It is a tune of the elves. I would sing it but I'm afraid you would not understand," she replied with her gaze remaining on the flowing water.

"Sing it in a language I would understand then," Jon asked. Riya smiled. It surprised her that he would want to hear such a thing. She let out a sigh. Jon sat there waiting for her to begin. She hummed a bit more before she began to sing:

_All over_

_The water flows so rare_

_Through the realm _

_With none to spare_

_Over and under it flows with dare_

_It has seen such things_

_That none could ever believe_

_The dead will rise_

_And the water see's_

_All over_

_The water becomes the dead_

With the last word a tear fell from her eyes. She dropped the stick and let the water take it. Riya raised her eyes and whipped away the fallen tear. Jon could feel the sadness with in the song. He paused and watched her further. Riya knew he was there and did her best to control herself but she couldn't. Before she knew it another tear had fallen. She gulped back. She could hear her own weeping. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. It was Jon. He motioned his thumb in comfort. Riya quickly lifted her hand and held onto his. The two sat there by the river in silence without word as Riya cried. In that moment Jon found someone he could relate to. Tyrion told him stories of what had happened to Riya and her sister. The rumors told and the rumors confirmed as true. She was lost.

Jon and Riya soon returned back to the others. Riya looked over to see Tyrion reading as he leaned against a tree. She began to make her way to him and sat beside him. She looked at the text of the book and read over his shoulder. Tyrion knew she was there but it was nice to share a book with someone for once. Jon soon came over and sat across from them.

"You read?" Tyrion asked Jon as he raised his eyes over the book. Jon shook his head.

"Why is that?" Tyrion asked. Jon had no answer. He looked at Riya for response but she was of no use.

"Bastards can't read," one of the men said as he sipped on his soup. Two others around him laughed. Riya looked at Jon who looked away. He was biting down on his lip and clenching his fists.

"Bastards are as much as people as you and me. They can do what they want, say what they want and treat low lives the way they want," Tyrion said as his gaze remained on the book. Riya looked over at the men.

"Dwarfs don't have much right either," the man replied. Tyrion closed his book and looked at them.

"Ignore them. They're rotten men at the wall anyway," Riya said loud enough for them to hear. She slowly rose.

"You think that you can speak that way about us you little bitch?" the guy said as he rose. Jon went to stand to help her but Tyrion waved his hand for him to stay. Jon was confused and watched them.

"I can speak however I want. Especially too three men who have to stand up on a wall to do shit all for our realm," Riya responded. One of the men bit his lip and went to go at him before one of Tyrion's men stuck out his hand and pushed him back.

"Another attempt to come at me like that and you will see the face of a Denwarn. Do I make myself clear?" Riya said firmly. The men slowly calmed down. They looked up at Tyrion's men then nodded.

"You're sister can't protect you forever Riya," the man said.

"And the Wall can't protect you forever," Riya responded. The three men scowled at her and walked off. The other six new recruits sat there in confusion. Riya slowly sat back down. Jon remained quiet as he stared at her.

"Does your sister truly hold that much power?" Jon asked. Riya looked over and smiled. Tyrion smiled too.

"My dear boy. Nadia Denwarn is not only the most beautiful but the most powerful woman in Westeros," Tyrion stated. Jon looked in confusion.

"Are you playing tricks Lannister?" Jon asked firmly. Riya remained quiet as she read the book Tyrion held.

"You are remarkably polite for a bastard, Snow. What you see is a dwarf. You are what, twelve?" Tyrion asked as he lowered the book. Riya's gaze moved to Jon.

Jon looked in confusion. "I am fourteen."

"Fourteen, and you're taller than I will ever be. My legs are short and twisted, and I walk with difficulty. I require a special saddle to keep from falling off my horse. A saddle of my own design, you may be interested to know. It was either that or ride a pony. My arms are strong enough, but again, too short. I will never make a swordsman. Had I been born a peasant, they might have left me out to die, or sold me to some slaver's grotesquerie. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and the grotesqueries are all the poorer. Things are expected of me. My father was the Hand of the King for twenty years. My brother later killed that very same king, as it turns out, but life is full of these little ironies. My sister married the new king and my repulsive nephew will be king after him. I must do my part for the honor of my House, wouldn't you agree? Yet how? Well, my legs may be too small for my body, but my head is too large, although I prefer to think it is just large enough for my mind. I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind . . . and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge." Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. "That's why I read so much, Jon Snow." The boy absorbed that all in silence.

"What are you reading about?" Jon Snow asked. Tyrion looked at him.

"The book is about dragons lord Snow," Riya said before Tyrion was able to open his mouth.

Jon said no more. He thought Riya and Tyrion were insane. As he got up and walked away Riya let out a sigh. Tyrion opened his book once more and began to read. Riya rested her head against the tree and closed her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4: Papias Delnatte

The land was a vast enclosed space. The trees were tall and covered in frost that gathered from the cold winds. Birds would fly out of the tree and head south for warmth. The snow was lightly falling from the sky above. The only sound was one of wind.

Senses remained high on the north side of the wall. The smell of a fresh frozen stream was all that was there. A warm hand touched the frost covered bark. The frost slowly melted only to be frosted over once the hand parted. The frosted trees and snow fall made it hard for the Wildling hunter to see the sky above and the land before him. It all blended in.

Papias sat there quietly waiting for a slight sound that was separated from the rest. His focus would stay directly on the odd. He looked up in the sky for a bird that flew to low. His gaze would move too all corners around him for a deer or elk that would attempt to break the ice for fresh cold water. He had been there for three hours waiting for anything he could bring home to Mance Rayder and the rest of his Wildling folk. As he sat there he kept his senses high. There were many dangers beyond the wall. The crows from castle black, Craster and his men and the most dangerous of all. They are said to be legend but far from it. Papias had seen one; his men have been attacked by them. They were no friends. They were the Others.

Before he could be haunted by memory, Papias heard suddle footsteps. He turned his head slowly to see a male buck digging at the snow. Papias leaned over onto his right knee. He pulled out his long bow that was half the size of him when he stood up. He set it into position. Papias then slowly pulled an arrow from his pack that rested on his back. He placed the arrow into position with the bow and pulled it back quietly. He sat there for a moment as the animal took its final drink. He then released his grip on the arrow and it went flying past his face. The arrow hit the animal in the side of the jugular. It squealed then fell to the ground.

Papias leaped from behind the bushes and ran over to the animal. He looked down upon the wounded animal. He placed the bow down and held the animals head in his hands. The buck took heavy breaths as it glared into the eyes of its predator. Papias glared down upon it. He slowly brought out his dagger and brought it closer to the animal.

"I promise, you're meat and fur will go to no waste," Papias said. He then stuck the dagger into the buck's neck and slowly cut it. It wasn't long before the animal was no longer breathing. Papias gave a sigh and began to pack up the animal in his rope.

When the animal was well secured in the rope, Papias tested the tug. He then held the other end over his shoulder and turned in the direction of his Wildling camp. His gaze kept to the ground as he pulled the buck through the snow. A chilling strong and horrifying wind came and blew across his face. Papias stopped in his tracks and turned his head in the direction the wind came from. Standing by a tree was a dark figure. He stood up firmly and glared at it. The figure didn't move. When Papias eyes adjusted he saw what it was. A tall, wrinkled man. One that had half his face rotted away stood there glaring. It was one of the Others. His gaze turned to the other side to see another one. He glared at them. They glared back. They watched him for a moment longer before disappearing into pale forest. Papias let out a sigh then continued on.

Memories began to return. It was his thirteenth hunt. He was traveling alongside a group of elven wildings. They were his friends. The biting wind was nothing for them. They were following the trail of a herd of deer. On their travel they lost the tracks. They seemed to have completely disappeared. The trace of them was completely gone. In the rage and argument between the hunters a vast sound was heard. A terrifying and trembling one. They came fast and they came swiftly. Papias closed his eyes in the horror to avoid the sight of his own death. But when he opened them the bodies laid cold around him. The Others stood all around them in a circle. Papias was scared and saw his life coming to an end. The Others had a different idea in mind. They let him live, only to be haunted by the memory.

Papias soon arrived at the wildling camp. As he dragged his catch through the snow, four little heads popped out from behind a log. They slowly rose. Four children ran around and jumped for joy at the sight of him. He smiled and gave out a laugh as he looked at them. He continued on through the camp. The four children running and skipping around him.

When he got to Mance Rayder's tent he dropped his catch. Two of the wildling men came and grabbed it. It was a large buck and the men were pleased to receive it. Papias smiled as the men gave him a tap on the back. He turned his gaze to see Esmour Browne. One of the wildlings greatest hunters and a legend to the wildlings. He's in his mid-fifties and has a limp that he got from fighting one of the Crows. He won the battle but suffered a major injury that now he can no longer hunt or fight.

"Papias! How did you're hunt go?" Esmour asked as he reached the boy.

"It was good. I found a four year old buck. A big one," Papias smiled. Esmour through his head back and chuckled. His grey eyes now covered by his top and bottom eyelid. Esmour's giant hand came up and rested on the side of Papias' shoulder as they entered the tent.

Inside, Mance Rayder had a small fire and his bed. He looked through a map and chewed on his bottom lip. Papias and Esmour's smile disappeared. Something was on Rayder's mind. The two men took a few steps forward and stood in front of Rayder. Rayder slowly raised his eyes and saw his two most trusted men.

"My son and my hand, what do you have for me?" Mance asked. Papias licked his lips. He had something on his mind that he wanted to ask Mance some time ago. Esmour knew and had planned to speak with Rayder alongside Papias.

"I request to advance my hunter position to warrior and travel with you to the other side of the wall," Papias requested as his hands began to become clammy. Mance glared at him.

"Request denied. You stay a hunter for your people," Rayder responded as he looked back down at his map. Papias gulped back. He looked over at Esmour. Esmour's gaze was on the ground. Papias looked back at Rayder and stormed out with anger and sadness.

When Papias left the tent, Esmour looked at Rayder. Rayder dropped his gaze and sighed as he rubbed his forehead. He then turned and leaned against the table. Esmour made his way to Rayder's side.

"You have yet to tell the boy the truth. His family, his honor, his home," Esmour stated. Rayder looked forward at nothing.

"I am Papias' family, his honor is with the Wildlings and his home is here," Rayder replied.

"His family is the Delnatte's royal house, his honor lies beyond the wall and his home lies where his family was chased too, Dreadfort. That is his home and that is where he belongs," Esmour said firmly as he leaned in closer to Mance. Mance pulled away quickly and shriveled up his face with anger.

"He is sixteen years old and a hunter for the wildlings! He is my son and nothing more! He is prince beyond the wall not prince of the Delnatte's! Bring this up again and I will feed you to the cold corpses that haunt Papias' mind!" Rayder snapped before storming out of the tent. Esmour let out a sigh and rubbed his shriveled hands.


	5. Chapter 5: Selda Amcottes

**Selda Amcottes**

The party from the South rested in a small village. It was only a few miles from Kings Landing and was a very joyful place. Just two miles East, Selda's ancestor's city lay. The fresh air that spun through the wind that came from the east brought the smell of home back into her lungs.

Selda made her way to a stream where she washed her hands. The fresh water is what made her feel happy. After swaying her hand in the water she stopped and sat on one of the rocks. She looked around at her surroundings and smiled. It was a sweet place to be and a lovely place to live. Her mind reflected on her life. Working for the Queen and having the highest position within the council was an honorable life but not what she had wished for herself. She grew up in Kings Landing. She learned all the cruel minds that lay within the walls. Selda learned what she could from those above her. She observed them and learned from them.

Her thought was cut short after she heard the trotting of horses. Selda slowly raised her head to see Prince Joeffery and Lady Sansa Stark. As they rode closer, Selda stood from her seat. Once they were right in front of her, Joeffery smiled and nodded at her. Selda did nothing back. She scowled at him. Joeffery had no idea what to do with her glare so he continued ridding. She watched as they trailed further alongside the river. She let out a deep sigh and made her way back to the village.

Selda made her way through the village. They were still attempting to clean the place up for their King. The King that only cared for hunting, drinking and whoreing. Selda rolled her eyes at the attempt from the foolish people. She hated those who attempted to impress. It was pointless in her eyes. Dressing up for King Robert was pathetic. He was pathetic. She couldn't say anything but she truly whished someone would listen. Her desires and dreams were all she had. Her words just sat quietly inside her head. Her scandal and deceiving kept away from others.

As Selda entered the small building they were staying in, she heard mumbles from a distressed woman. She peeked behind the corner to see the queen and her twin brother arguing. They were speaking of Bran Stark. The now crippled young boy of Eddard Stark. People say he slipped. But Selda knew differently. She rolled her eyes and entered the room.

"The boy has yet remembered of the unforgettable scene he witnessed of the queen and her beloved twin brother fucking they're anger out," Selda said as she poured herself a glass of wine.

"Must you sneak up on us like that?" Jamie said as he rolled his eyes. Selda smirked and took a sip of the wine.

"Keep your voice down. The last thing we need is for Ned to hear of our treachery towards his son," Cersei snapped.

"Ned Stark has no friends in the South besides the drunken fool Robert. We are safe if rats are to hear," Selda stated. Jamie looked down and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Robert would listen to him. He sees him as a brother," Cersei added.

"Then I will kill Robert just as I did the mad king," Jamie said as he grabbed Cersei's hand. She quickly ripped it from his.

"Oh shut up. Unfortunately for you, Robert has more friends than Aerys did. Take one playful swing at Robert and it will be the end of the Lannister family," Selda stated. Jamie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Now both of you shall not speak of this until we are in the safety of King's Landing. I could hear you from the entrance of this tiny village," Selda snapped before leaving them alone.

Later that day she walked down the hallway to the main hall she saw a rush of men making their way.

"What is it?" Selda asked one of the men.

"The prince has been harmed by the Stark's wolf!" the guard yelled as he hurried. Selda rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. She then followed the rushing men.

That night, Selda stood beside Cersei and Robert as they waited for Ned to return from his search. Selda glared at the young daughter, Arya. Selda liked her and hated Joffrey. She told herself to defend the girl but her honor was to Cersei and she could not destroy that. Selda turned when she saw Ned rushing in. He came up and lightly rested his hands on Arya's shoulder as she cried.

"What is the meaning of this? Why was my daughter not brought to me?" Ned asked as he turned to Robert. Selda turned to look at Joffrey's hand. It was bandaged.

"How dare you speak to your king like that," Cersei said crudely.

"Quiet you," Robert snapped. Selda saw Cersei's destruct and sighed. A moment of silence hit them. Selda entwined her fingers and continued to glare at the girl.

"I never meant to frighten the girl but we need to get this business done quickly," Robert said as he leaned in his chair.

"Your girl and the butchers boy attacked my son. That animal she calls a pet nearly tore his arm off," Cersei stated as she turned to her sobbing son.

"Not true!" Arya screamed as she gave Joffrey a death glare. Selda watched intently at Joffrey. He went to snap back before Selda rested a hand on his arm. Cersei saw this a gave her a look.

"Joffrey told us what happened. You and the boy beat him with clubs then you set your wolf on him," Cersei stated. Selda looked to Arya. The looked on her face was one of anger and disgust.

"They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river!" Joffrey snapped as he held back his tears. A wimp was all he was.

"Liar!" Arya yelled.

"Shut up!" Joffrey yelled back.

"That is enough!" Selda snapped as she looked down at the two children. Robert nodded at her and he continued.

"Where is your other daughter Ned?" Robert asked.

"In bed asleep?" Ned responded with confusion.

"No she is well awake, Sansa come here darling," Cersei said with a suddle smile. Selda knew what that meant. The Lannister was sneaky one. Sansa slowly come from the crowd and stood beside Arya as she looked down then up at the Queen.

"Tell me what happened child," Robert ordered. Sansa took a step forward and stood in front of the King.

"I don't know," she paused. Selda could see how nervous she was. The choice was between family honor and the honor of Joffrey. "Everything happened so fast. I didn't see-" Sansa was cut short when Arya screamed and began to beat on Sansa calling her a liar. The crowd looked in disgust with the girls behavior. Ned quickly pulled her off. Cersei smiled evilly.

"She's just as wild as her animal. I want her punished," Cersei stated. Robert rolled his eyes.

"What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets? It was a simple fight. That is all," Robert stated. He paused and looked at his son.

"You let that little girl disarm you?" Robert said looking at his son. Joffrey looked down in anger and sadness. "See to it that your daughter is disciplined," Robert ordered. Ned nodded and went to turn.

"And the dire wolf?" Cersei asked. Robert looked down.

"There was no trace of the dire wolf," a guard stated. Robert nodded and shrugged.

"There is another," Cersei added. Selda had a sick sense come to her mind. Since it was Sansa's wolf they spoke of, Selda had no care. Robert looked at Ned. He glared in disbelief.

"Kill it," Robert ordered before leaving the room. Sansa dropped to the ground.

"Not Lady!" she screamed. Ned didn't know what to do. He looked down at his two daughters and found himself breaking.

Selda watched as the two Stark daughters were escorted to their rooms by Ned's men. She felt her stomach drop at the thought of Arya's breaking heart. She looked down and made her way to her room. Things were about to change. Things were about to get ugly. The Iron Throne lost its way the second the Targaryens sat upon it. Now it was to change for a second time. This time, a Lannister was to sit upon it.


	6. Chapter 6: Elerosse Culnamo

**Elerossë Culnámo **

A raven arrived at the window ledge of the Elven King's bedroom. It was news of the outside realm. News that did no comfort for Elerossë. As he sat on the bed he read through the letter as many times as he could. Troubles of the Seven Kingdoms was none of his business. His allies think otherwise. Some believe the realm is nothing and that the elves are dead but close friends of Elerossë know they are well alive.

"Looks like Lord Stark's son is a cripple boy," Elerossë announced as he placed down the letter and sighed. He turned his head to see Rúmil, his right hand. "Lannisters are slow traitors and Daenerys Targaryen has wed the Dathraki lord," He added as he looked down into his hands.

"Your duty lies here within the Elven Realm. You casted that protection over it to avoid such matters," Rúmil responded in comfort. "You are a man of duty and honor," Rúmil added. Elerossë sighed again and rose from his bed side.

"If what you say is true, then why do I feel like a traitor?" Elerossë questioned out loud. Rúmil looked down. Before he could respond, Elerossë made his way past him and out the door.

Elerossë made his way down the halls of the elven realm. Rúmil stuck close by. He looked up at the marble pillars that rose as high as the trees. The chiselled artwork on the ceiling told a story. They told the story of Robert Rebellion and his power on the realm. Other stories like the ones of the Others and Aerys Targaryens time of ruling. History was here within the oldest place in Westeros. A place that no human had entered in over twenty years. The Elves kept to themselves. The white marble and elven magic kept the realm safe from the outside world. Isolation was key to keeping alive and surviving the Game of Thrones.

As the two Elven men walked down the bright hall they came across the fountain that lay in the middle of the dense realm. The skylight shone down upon the woman and children who played and washed themselves in the sky blue water. Birds and small animals lingered close. The great hall laid behind the immense sculpture of the first Elven King who conquered the Red Sea and won the battle against the fearful army of Goblins that rest in the cold mountains and the Great Wall. The woman washed there golden and light brown hair. Some danced naked through the great white tree resembling the Elven religion known as Valirë. A sense of joy came to the Elven King. His people were safe and had been safe for many years.

"Tell me I made the right choice on isolation from the Seven," Elerossë asked as his gaze remained on the people. Rúmil looked at him then back down at the people.

"Every choice you make is for the best my Lord," Rúmil replied. Elerossë rolled his eyes and looked at him.

"Do not feed me your lies! Truth is what I ask of you! As my hand I expect nothing but the truth!" Elerossë scowled in elven language as his blonde hair fell from his shoulder. Rúmil licked his lips.

"For your people, it is best. For your duty to the realm and your duty to your daughter, it is not," Rúmil stated. Elerossë looked upon his hand and sobbed. He then turned and made his way to the staircase.

Elerossë stood at the bottom of the steps as he looked out to his people. He smiled a great smile to hide the worries in his mind. The woman and children bowed quickly and went to greet their King. A scene of love and honor was given in the remembrance of the great man who came to them and gave them hope and safety. The king raised his head and looked at his hand, Rúmil. Rúmil gave him one last look before sneaking off into the far hall. The King knew that rational decisions must be made. Rumors have spread from the North and the South.


	7. Chapter 7: Papias Delnatte

**Papias Delnatte**

Papias watched the small fire crackle and burn. He took a sip of his unsatisfying wine and sat there sulking about Rayder's decision. He wanted to help them fight and be free closer to the wall where the Rangers lie. The weak crows and monsters they were.

Esmour Browne sat close by. He took large sips of his wine and gargled his mouth with it then spit it back out. His big grey coat covered almost every inch of his body besides his face. He looked like a round ball of fur. The old man noticed Papias' obliviousness to what was around him. The woman sitting on Esmour's knee began to become unsatisfying to him. He quickly shoved her off and order for the woman to leave. Papias did not watch the woman leave nor did he raise his gaze from the fire.

"Papias, why don't you meet your true man hood?" Esmour suggested as he took another sip of wine. Papias looked up.

"I have no interest in whores and warm wet part that lies between their legs. I want to fight. I want to battle the crows and win my father's honor," Papias said with rage. Esmour sighed slightly and stood from his seat.

"You are one of the most honored lads here. Mance Rayder is more proud of you then he is in himself. You are the gift to our world young Papias. One day you will climb that god forbidden hell wall and the north will rise," Esmour stated. Papias rolled his eyes.

"You say such things but you put no effort to do this. I will attempt and succeed if Rayder would just give me a chance. A chance to prove myself worthy of myself," Papias stated. Esmour took a final sip of his wine and went to exit the tent.

"Times are changing little man. A true winter is about to arrive. Lannister, Stark, Baratheon, Targaryen, Denwarn, Amcottes, Tully, Martell, Tyrell, and many more. They are all going to rebel," Esmour stated before leaving the tent. Papias looked back into the flames and sighed.

Papias soon left the tent and wondered the cold ways. He searched through the small village to seek something to keep himself occupied but there was nothing. He came to the edge of the small village and sat on a frozen rock. He looked out to the vast land of snow. In the distance you could see the suddle top of the great wall. One day he would go there and be the true Wildling Mance has always said he was.

"Day dreaming are you?" Papias turned to see a hooded woman figure. The hood came off and it revealed the red hair of a Wildling warrior named Ygritte. Papias ignored her and turned back.

"Mance Rayder isn't letting me join you guys on the travel," Papias complained. Ygritte sighed and walked to sit beside him.

"It is only a plan. Not set in motion yet. You are not ready to go on such hunts," Ygritte stated. Papias clenched his fists. "Anger is your weakness. It is all men's weakness. Grow up Papias, show Mance what you can do," Ygritte added. Papias glared at his childhood friend.

"I can't help it. This place is so boring," Papias paused. Ygritte looked at him. "People have yet to belive what I tell them. The crows are not a concern," Papias added. Ygritte sighed deeply.

"Do not speak of it. It only haunts your mind. Keep quiet and remember who you are," Ygritte said before rising and leaving him.


	8. Chapter 8: Nadia Denwarn

**Nadia Denwarn**

Nadia sat in the window ledge slowly sowing up on of the men's shirt. The man in question was dead but they were to keep his cloak and sword for a new member. She sat there shoving the needle in and bringing it out slowly. She hummed a tune of a beautiful sound. One that would make anyone curious behind it.

"Are you alright my lady?" asked a man's voice. Nadia stopped her tune and looked up to see who the man was. It was the Lord Commander. She looked at him and smiled. Her gaze turned back to her work.

"Yes Lord Commander. Just fixing up the stitching," she responded. The Commander watched her closely and sat down in the chair next to her. He saw the heating breath slowly blow out of her nostrils. He then reached into his pocket and dropped down a letter. Nadia slowly raised her eyes from her work and looked down upon it. The wax resembled the sign of a Targaryen.

"The fool," she said under her breath as she dropped the cloth in her hands.

"I have done my part to keep quiet of your connection with the remaining Targaryens," Lord Commander paused as he licked his bottom lip. "But they are making foolish decisions on their parasols," He finished. Nadia looked at him then back down to notice it was already opened.

"My apologies my lord. I will be sure to inform Viserys on his idiocy. Now, tell me. What did the message read?" Nadia asked as she continued her stitching. The Commander let out a sigh.

"He accepts your offer to watch over Riya. They are expecting the two of you in the Dathraki lands two nights from now," Lord Commander informed as he rose and made his way to the door. She peeked up to see him grasp the door knob.

"The bastard boy, Lord Snow, how is he doing?" Nadia asked. The Commander turned.

"Just as you thought he would be. The best we have seen. But you already know that, you've been watching the boys from the ledge," Lord Commander stated. She looked at him. "He has noticed you're beautiful face. His words," The Commander said. Nadia said nothing.

"Keep clear of him. I'm afraid the boy may turn on the black. Same I fear for all my men. Watch yourself Lady Denwarn," The Commander warned before leaving her. Nadia turned and looked down at the fighting grounds and spotted Jon Snow fighting off the men one by one. He was powerful and true. Nadia could see that clearly. She knew it was due to his honor and lessons he had in Winterfell. It was something Castle Black had never seen before except for Benjen Stark.

Riya Denwarn sat by the barrels as she watched her new friend, Jon Snow battle against two of the men at the Night's Watch. He beat and secured at them. The trainer stood strong criticising the blows done to his men. Riya watched as he shook his head. Jon Snow turned and winked to her. She gave a smile and watched him further. Jon found himself thinking of Arya whenever he spent time with Riya.

"You think Ned Stark's bastard bleeds like the rest of us?" the trainer asked. One of the men than came and charged at him. Jon quickly swiped back and kicked the boy to the ground. The trainer bit his lip and shook his head. Jon looked down at the man he bashed.

"Well Lord Snow, looks like you're the least useless person here," the trainer said. Jon looked at him. Jon bit his lip.

"Sam!" the trainer yelled. Riya and the others turned and glared at the big fat boy who stumbled over with a sword.

"Teach this coward a thing or two," the trainer said. The others laughed. Sam held his sword close shaking slowly. Sam was brought to Castle Black by Nadia. She wanted to give him a real chance. Jon raises his sword but Sam falls in a coward stance. The trainer comes up and has two of the men beat him until he rises. Jon but his lip at the action and commanded they stop.

"Get off him!" Jon yelled as he shoved them off. The trainer bit his lip.

"Protecting your boyfriend lord Snow?" he chuckled. "You're a foolish man," he added as he went to turn.

"Why don't you fight me then? If no one else can, than you do it," Jon said. Riya looked up to see the Lord Commander and Tyrion Lannister standing there. It seemed the anger sparked in Jon.

"Very well. As you command," the trainer said with a smirk. The trainer turned and laughed. He then handed his cloth to the others. His jealousy of Snow was one everyone knew of. Jon got ready and away they went. Back and forth they swiped at one another. Sam sat there watching nervously. Riya gulped back in worry. Jon then quickly slammed the trainer down and held his sword to his neck.

"Jon," Riya said as she got closer. Jon scrunched his face in anger then turned and went to turn. As Jon turned, the trainer quickly rose screaming with rage. He had his sword high. In the blink of an eye, Nadia came in and held her sword up blocking the trainers. The two looked at each other and she kicked and shoved him back. She quickly grabbed his hair and held her swords length side to the trainer's neck. Nadia looked up to see the Lord Commander. She bit her lip and swung him forward. He quickly got to his feet and faced her.

"You retched bitch!" he screamed. He rose his sword up and the men held him back. Many were shocked to officially see the fair maiden they had only heard in stories.

"Since when did the Crows kill their own? Get back in line before I send you to the Others!" Nadia snapped with clenched fists. Jon glared at her. Her gaze turned to everyone. "Pypar, Grenn. Get Alliser Thorne out of my sight before I gut him!" she ordered. The two nodded and helped him off the fighting ground. She watched him walk off. Lord Commander grinded his teeth and made his way inside. Tyrion gave her a look but she shook it off. Nadia then turned and picked up a sword off the ground and handed it over to Sam as he shook.

"I told you Sam, you want to gain your courage, learn how to. This is no joke," Nadia said to him. Sam slowly gulped back and nodded. She let out a sigh and turned to Jon and Riya.

"Thank you," Jon said nervously as he glared at her. Nadia slowly nodded. Jon kept his gaze on her.

"The Commanders going to kill you for that," Riya warned. Nadia looked over to see where he was standing.

"Yes well, so be it. The little shit deserved a bigger blow to the back if the head. Nothing but a fool," she said firmly. Nadia then turned and nodded to them as she walked off. Jon was in a daze. She was beautiful.

As Nadia entered the Lord Commanders room, she could already sense the rage within him. She slowly closed the door and stood close to it in case of a need for a quick exit. The Commander turned and looked at her. He placed his wine cup down and sighed.

"You did the one thing I ask you do not," the Commander said. Nadia looked down and said nothing. "Now you have blinded half my men and shown them the skills a woman could have," Lord Commander said. Nadia looked up at him.

"They have seen nothing yet," she replied.

"Nor will they ever. When you leave, I will gain the power back. When you return do not think of doing such actions again, are we understood?" he said firmly. Nadia looked up and nodded.

When Nadia left the room, she made her way down the hallway. It came across the openings. She found a scene that made her smile. Riya, Jon and the dire wolf Ghost were sneaking around attempting to play games. She hadn't seen her sweet sister smile like that before. Something about Jon made Nadia gain hope for the future. She remembered him as a mere child. He was always quiet and sweet. Nothing to complain about. Her heart beat faster than it had ever before.


	9. Chapter 9: Sairalindë Culnámo

**Sairalindë Culnámo**

The river fort was calm and careless. The tall tower that gave a perfect view of the border that parted the Elven realm from the people of Westeros and the terror that lies beyond.

Surrounding the tower were eight elven huts. It was consider a small village that remained two miles from the capital of the Elven Realm. Only thirteen elven woman, seven elven men, ten elven children, and fifteen elven warriors and guards swayed around. It was a relaxing place. The sun beamed perfectly down upon it. Snow never ventured passed the great dome that was placed around the realm. It was like a forever summer that never put a frown on someone's face. That is except for one.

Sairalindë was sitting by her vanity as she brushed her silk blonde hair. She glared into her reflection in the mirror as she watched her hair become softer and shiny every time her brush parted from the tip of her hair. Her eyes wondered to the window. She could hear the sounds of children's laughter and happiness. She looked back down at her hair brush in her hand and sighed. She was not happy at all. She hated being locked away in this river fort village. She wanted to find truth and go on adventures. As the elven princess her destiny was permanently within the realm.

"A dove has arrived from the Northern tower my lady," a messenger said in elven. Sairalindë turned and rose from her seat. She made her way over and took the letter from his hand. Her eyes read over the words. As she read it her eyes grew with disbelief.

"A goblin has made its way into the realm?" Sairalindë asked in disbelief. The messenger sighed and looked down at the letter. Sairalindë gave it another look then began to wonder.

"They request you ride there by dawn to look into the matter. Why they have not asked for your father is unknown," the messenger informed. She looked to him and thought for a moment.

"Get the soldiers to ready my horse. I will ride within the hour," she ordered. The messenger bowed and headed off down to the soldiers.

Sairalindë headed down to the stables to ride out. Alongside her was another soldier of the name Eärendur Mithrandír. He was bulk but quiet. Old amongst many and had seen more of Westeros than anyone besides the King. His fierce look was cold and unwelcoming. His right eye was carved out as a young elf when he was captured by the goblins. In revenge, he murdered a whole village out of rage for not sharing the goblins where abouts. An elf who could survive a game of fierce and murderous foe. The princess had informed him of the mission at hand but he did not seem affected. Sairalindë stated he was the Hound of the elven realm. The elves knew of everyone in the seven kingdoms. The Starks, Lannisters, Tyrell's, Baratheon's, Greyjoys, all of them. They did not fear anyone. People do not see that they still exist and that they are more powerful than the seven combined into one army.

"The sky speaks future, does it not?" Sairalindë asked to break the silence between them. Eärendur nodded with his gaze fixed upon the path ahead. She looked at him and sighed.

"The Elven and Dathraki prophecy is soon to be met. The game of death begins as Ned Stark arrives to the capital of Westeros," she paused as she began to get lost in her thought. Passages from books and pictures chipped in the Elven realm's capital walls fill her mind. She looked once more at the sky. It was nothing special. The sky was a grey blue that brought a feeling of depression and a feeling of winter. Winds brought shaken mystery to her. Her thought to speak disappeared and she and Eärendur carried on with their ride to the North fort.

When they arrived at the entrance, two soldiers opened the giant Iron Gate that parted the fort from the North village around the fort. When the gates opened they slowly rode in. The North was the saddest place in the realm. It was much colder. There was no snow just some frost. The houses were old and slowly falling apart. It didn't live up to the expectation of the elven realm. It was dirty and unhappy. The village was the biggest population of the four villages by each port. Fourteen elven men, twenty three elven woman, thirty elven children and seventeen elven soldiers and guards. Whenever there was an attack on the realm from the goblins, the North fort would be hit first due to the tall Mountain of Gurth. Gurth to the elves is the name for death. The people of the North tower claim to hear a woman scream in horror from the mountain every night at midnight. Children do not dare to venture passed the border safety of the realm. Once Sairalindë and Eärendur made it too the fort, the elven stable boys escorted the two off and tied up their horses.

"My lady Culnámo, I am so grateful you have come," a tall black man named Fuin stated as he bowed to Sairalindë. She looked down at him and smiled awkwardly.

"Where is the goblin Fuin?" she asked casually as she looked around. Fuin gulped back and lightly placed his hand on her back and escorted her inside the fort tower. He escorted her and Eärendur to a wooden door. The guards slowly opened it to reveal a large stone staircase. Fuin stepped first and grabbed the torch on the left hand side. Sairalindë, then Eärendur then two other soldiers followed behind. The steps were wet and slippery. Once they got to the bottom they followed down at stone path. Water dripped from the ceiling. That's when Sairalindë knew they were underneath the river. The path was slim and very humid.

They soon made it too a bared door. Fuin took out a large key and opened it. A large post stood in the center. Sairalindë looked closely to see a small figure sitting down. A chain wrapped around his neck and connected to his hands. Fuin and the two soldiers stepped forward. One soldier kicked at the figure. It turned and squealed. The goblin revealed its big yellow eyes. They looked like a large tigers. Sairalindë gulped back as she took another step forward. The Goblin's teeth where a light yellow but more pointy then a dagger. They were small like a needle and shiny like a shimmer of light on water. Her eyes widened when she came closer to the creature. Its nose was two slits and its face shape was an odd oval. She nodded to the soldiers and they pulled back the chains causing the goblin to be tightly held against the post. It squealed and looked at Sairalindë and growled at her.

"Why have you come down passed your safety?" she asked him as she approached the creatures face. Her eyes stared into his trying to connect to him but he looked away. When his gaze came back he began to calm down. His eyes became soft. Fuin began to pray quietly in the elven language. Eärendur stood strongly as he glared at the ugly creature.

"They have come," the goblin responded with a raspy voice. Fuin and Eärendur gave one another a suddle look.

"Who have come?" Sairalindë asked.

"The dead rise in the far North. The wind blows a blissful chill that reveals a great danger. In the East fire starts, south comes a day of testing. But the North," the goblin paused. "The North remembers and it holds a danger that will destroy our homes forever," it finished as it gasped for breath. Sairalindë looked up to Fuin in shock. Fuin ordered for them to leave the prison cell.

Once they came out of the dark cellar below, Fuin's face filled with rage and he stormed over to the whispering hut. Sairalindë quickly followed him. Eärendur stayed close behind her. When the two walked in they watched as Fuin frantically wrote a letter in the common tongue. The princess looked at him in disbelief of what she was seeing. Curiosity filled her. Eärendur closed the door and locked it behind them for privacy.

"Who is this you write to?" Sairalindë asked in the common tongue as she slammed her hand down on the table. Fuin looked up at her.

"I write to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, to Lady Nadia Denwarn. The Night's Watch must be notified," he responded as he rolled up the paper.

"What did the goblin mean? Who does he speak of?" Sairalindë asked with rage. He did not answer. Sairalindë grabbed his arm before he shook her off and turned firmly.

"There are far more dangerous things than that of the Iron Throne. The Seven Kingdoms are about to see a devastation that will change the fate of our land. Soon, chaos will embark on a great adventure," Fuin said before tying the note to a dove and sending it off in the air. Fuin then turned and left the hut. Sairalindë stood there out of breath and in shock. She was worried for the future, scared for what lies ahead.


	10. Chapter 10: Selda Amcottes

**Selda Amcottes**

The party soon arrived at Kings Landing. They rode in fearlessly and gazed upon the southern folk. The people were not so cheery but yet again who would be at the presence of their disgraceful king and his sad excuse for an aire to the throne.

A few moments after arriving, Selda found herself in the bedroom of Cersei, listening to her rant about Selda's behaviour at the time Joffrey had been attacked by Arya's wolf. Cersei continued to argue showing her stern teeth and fiery blue eyes. Selda paid no attention to what she had been speaking about. She just watched her golden hair flow back and forth as she twisted and turned angrily. Something about the way Cersei moved made Selda uncomfortable and somehow scared of what she was truly thinking and saying to her. Selda looked up hastily as she came back to reality of the topic being discussed.

"I understand my queen. I shall keep myself under control the next time your inbred son gets attacked by animals tempted by protection," Selda said as she looked at her. Cersei clenched her teeth. She would never harm Selda. Though holding great power she needed Selda.

"Jamie is in the main hall speaking with Ned Stark. His reason was unknown to my knowledge," Cersei shared as she collapsed into her seat. Selda's face froze. She quickly turned to the door and rushed out.

Selda soon came to the main hall and stood quietly as she listened to the conversation between the two strong men. The words were cold and full of right and wrong. The truth of the Mad King's death and the misleading rumors shared between the simple people of Westeros. Selda paused for a moment after hearing the final words. Ned Stark then came through the door way and jumped when he saw her come out of her hiding corner.

"My lord of the north, where are you headed off too?" she asked. Ned looked at her with an odd look.

"My service is required for the meeting with the council," Ned replied. Selda smiled.

"Well Lord Stark, I am one of the members of the council. I shall be joining you on the walk to the meeting room," She smiled. Ned smiled nervously back. The two continued to walk along one another.

When they got there the first to rise was Verys he let out his hand and held onto Starks cold fingers. He smiled eerily and looked upon the face of the new Hand. Selda watched as he grim smile grew and his bald head shinned in the light coming from the open windows.

"I am sorry to hear of the misfortunes that came to you on your way to King's Landing. We pray for Joffrey's full recovery," Verys said. Selda bit her lip as Ned nodded slowly.

"Too bad we couldn't pray for the butcher's boy," he said as he turned to Robert's younger brother Renly. The look on Verys shocked face put a suddle smile to Selda's. After greeting Renly, Ned slowly made his way to a seat and sat down. Selda followed and sat as well close beside him. Selda slowly raised her eyes to see Petyr Baelish, the man who owns all the whore houses and is inlove with Lady Catelyn Stark. His smile was slim and meaningless. Selda gave him a look telling him to be kind.

"Eddard Stark, I have been waiting to meet you at last. I'm sure Catelyn has mentioned me once before," Petyr said showing his teeth.

"She has indeed lord Baelish. I also understand you knew my brother Brandon," Ned said firmly. Petyr gave a sly smile.

"All too well. I still hold a token from our last visit from naval to collar bone," Petyr smiled as he showed the trace of where it was hidden under his bronze robe. Ned smirked back.

"I see you chose a hard man to deal with," Ned said. Selda looked at Petyr.

"It was not the man I chose. It was Catelyn Tully, a woman worth fighting for and I am sure you will agree," Petyr said with a sly look of victory. Selda closed her eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. Before Ned could respond, the Grand Maester Pycelle jumped in.

"I humbly beg your pardon my lord Stark," he begun. Ned turned and smiled. "How many years has it been? You were just a young man the last time I saw you," he giggled. Ned nodded slowly. Pycelle paused for a moment then reached into his pocket and grabbed the pendent. It was the pendent for the Hand of the King. A golden hand laid its imagery. Ned glared at it for a moment before Selda coughed for attention.

"We shall begin then," she smiled. Ned looked down at her.

"Should we not wait for the king?" Ned asked curiously. Selda turned to Verys.

"The king intrusts us with small matters to lighten the load," Verys stated with keen blue eyes. Renly then handed Ned a scroll. He took it and slowly opened it.

"My dear brother insists on a tournament in celebration of Lord Stark as the Hand of the King," Renly announced. Selda slowly leaned back in her chair with uncared for this usual waste of gold dragons.

"How much will the king have this for?" Petyr asked curiously. Ned let out a sigh.

"Fifty thousand gold dragons for the champion, forty thousand for the runner up and twenty thousand to the third," Ned sighed with disbelief of the price. Pycelle's eyes went large with disbelief. Selda closed her eyes once more and looked to the side of her at the Maester.

"Can Kings Landing even bare such expense?" Pycelle asked. Petyr shrugged.

"We already owe Tywin Lannister three million gold what is another eighty thousand," Selda said with disgust and annoyance. Ned quickly turned.

"Are you telling me the crown owes three million in debt?" Ned asked with shock. Petyr smiled.

"I'm telling you the crown owes six million in debt," Petyr stated. Ned turned and looked around at the council.

"How could he let such a thing happen?" Ned asked.

"Unfortunately Lord Stark it was not only Robert but Jon Arryn who put the iron throne to shame," Selda said as she rose and walked to the pillar.

"Must you always be so dramatic?" Renly asked as he turned in Selda's direction.

"This does not get planned until I speak with Robert," Ned said as he rose. They all looked at him. "My apologies. It's been a long ride," Ned said after seeing their faces. Selda looked to Verys and then Petyr.

"Do not apologize. You are the King's hand. We serve you," Verys assured. Ned slowly nodded then left the room. Selda turned to the others. Renly, Pycelle and Petyr left after. Verys and Selda stood quietly in the room for some time. She glared at him then sat down in the chair on the edge of the table. He turned to her.

"How much longer?" Selda asked as she chewed on her cheek. Verys glared forward.

"Soon," Verys replied. Selda snickered and bit her lip. "We have done all we can to assure the dragons return. Now we must be patient and wait," Verys added after seeing her reaction.

"Yes but how long? How long must we wait? And what if Robert or Eddard Stark find out about our deceiving plan against the throne?" Selda paused. Verys sighed and looked down into his hands. "Play this one carefully Verys. You and I both know that this can only end two ways," Selda paused again as Verys turned to her. "Both our heads on a pike resting on the wall of King's Landing or the rebirth of the Targaryen ruling. Wait, I have done much of," Selda spoke her final word before standing. As she got to the door, Verys turned.

"Lady Catelyn rides to King's Landing," Verys warned. Selda turned and looked at him then turned and left.


	11. Chapter 11: Riya Denwarn

**Riya Denwarn**

Riya sat quietly as she watched Jon Snow sit down and begin to eat. All the members of the nights watch were feasting on disgusting food that no one had the care to actually attempt to savour.

The walls were dark and the two windows that remained on the wall only brought the cold blistering air in. Riya made sure to bundle up tightly. She knew the weather would turn into a devastating monster. Riya could sense the hatred and regret from the men around her. They were miserable and some wish they chose death. It was not surprising. Their life is pretty much useless from now on. It was all just rather unfortunate. Riya turned to the sound of heavy footsteps. One by one two men came. Riya's gut began to turn. She looked at their faces and they were focused on Jon. One man came up behind and went grabbed onto Jon's fur coat and pulled it back. Jon was not angered but more so annoyed.

"You think your better than us bastard?" one of the men asked. Riya found herself holding a strong grip on the ledge of the wooden table. Jon didn't answer.

"Release him Grenn!" Riya snapped firmly at the man holding a grip on Jon's coat. He just glared at her. She rose. "Release him before I cut your hands from your body!" she threatened. Grenn slowly released his grip. She then turned to Pypar, the second man harassing Jon.

"From now on you leave this bastard alone," she said with a firm look. Pypar looked at her and laughed.

"You think you can control us because your sisters with Nadia? I do not listen to little girls who know nothing of this life on the wall. You and your sister are pathetic. I bet Nadia hasn't even become a real woman yet," Pypar said as he grinded his teeth.

Jon looked to Riya and followed where her arm was. It was gripped to a dagger attached to her belt. Pypar took a step towards her. Before Pypar could insult her and her sister one more time she swiped under his feet with hers and he fell half way on the table. Jon could feel the pain in Pypar's back as he hit the table edge. Riya then brought up the dagger and placed it against his neck. Her hand was steady. Pypar began to breathe heavily and found himself scared.

"Speak ill against my sister or my name again and I will cut your head off with my dagger and I promise I will make it painful for you, you slimy little rat!" Riya said as her lips quivered and her teeth clenched. Pypar went to say something before a firm voice of a foreign language spoke.

"Riya," a voice said. Riya turned to see Nadia, the Lord Commander and Tyrion Lannister standing there. "Put down your dagger," Nadia said in elven. Riya looked back at Pypar. Her anger was so outrageous she had no intent to remove it. Nadia then came up beside her.

"Riya, give me your weapon," Nadia said as she lightly reached out for it. Riya gave the man one more look before releasing her grip on him. She then lightly tossed it over to her sister. Nadia sighed and turned to the men. Her eyes came to Jon's and she then left with Riya's dagger in hand. After the door had closed Riya turned to Jon.

"My apologies," she said. Jon looked closely at her. Before he could say anything she ran off. When Jon went to take a step forward he ran into a small dwarf. Tyrion pushed him to his seat. He waited a moment as many of them men began to leave. The ones left were Pypar, Grenn and Jon.

"Riya is an intriguing young spirit, is she not?" Tyrion said as he poured himself some wine. Pypar rubbed his neck.

"The bitch should have been gutted," Grenn said firmly. Jon gave him a scolding look.

"You spoke ill of her blood line, what else would she have done?" Jon said firmly. Grenn looked at him then back down.

"I see the bastard has made a friend. A good one in fact. A marvelous one," Tyrion said as he sipped his wine. Jon gave him a look.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"I mean that a Denwarn is the most powerful family line the Seven have ever seen. Even more powerful than the Targaryens with their dragons," he paused as he looked in his cup. Jon waited for more words. "She's a curious one. The legend has yet but fulfilled and all honesty I would fight for that one until my cunning words are mastered by another," Tyrion paused again.

"What legend?" Pypar asked. Tyrion looked at him then back down.

"The legend of-" Tyrion was cut off.

"The legend of the future ruler of these seven hells," Benjen Stark said as he walked in. The three boys turned and glared at him. "The elves have never been wrong before," Benjen added as he sat down next to his nephew. Jon's eyes were huge.

"I still don't understand what this legend is," Jon said with a curious tone.

"The legend of the elves state that a blood line will rule this very land. One is said to be the guardian, the other the ruler," Benjen stated. Tyrion smirked.

"The ruler of course is the one to watch the land and satisfy the people. The guardian on the other hand. Holds a task much greater and much more dangerous," Tyrion paused. Jon's face remained focused. "The guardian will defeat the foul ones on the North side of the wall. The white walkers," Tyrion smiled. Grenn and Pypar gulped back.

"They do not exist," Pypar said.

"Like I said, the elves are never wrong," Benjen stated. Jon turned to his uncle. "I do not belive in them but I do not doubt the elves words," Benjen added.

"Elves do not exist either you are creating stories," Grenn said with a crude tone. Tyrion glared at them.

"Think what you must Grenn. Legend from the oldest and most knowledgeable creatures in this world is something we all must take with complete belief," Tyrion said as he rose. "Now, I'm going to look for that young damaged little girl before she decides we will all parish in the night," Tyrion said as he opened the door and headed out.

Riya sat on the edge of Castle Black's walls. Her eyes were watery and her heart was broken. _Stop acting like a child, you are a lady_ she told herself as she tried to suck back the sadness. She found herself soulless. An empty vessel casted by her sister and controlled by the others. Anger would come and go. Sadness would come and go. As she sat there a few moments longer she began to feel like a fool. Jon Snow and the other Night's Watch men saw her foolish behaviour. She only truly cared for Jon's opinion though. She had always wanted a true friend at the wall. Before Jon came, she never wanted to be around the men. Not because she was scared of them but because she saw nothing of worth in them. Jon Snow had something to him that she saw as more than just a bastard raised in a royal family.

"Looking out at the vast land of snow?" a voice said from the deck under her seating. She looked down to see Tyrion Lannister attempting to climb up the wood and stone wall. She smiled as he finally made it beside her and sat.

"You shouldn't have done that you know? The Lord Commander already feels like you are a problem. Nadia is one thing, she knows how to take care of herself," Tyrion said as he looked at her. "After seeing that though I think you are fine too. But your emotion's get the better of you Riya, you must find a way to fix that before you slit the wrong man's throat," Tyrion added. Riya bit her lip.

"You speak words of truth Lannister," she paused. Tyrion looked up at her. "But I know my sister has arranged for me to go away. Far away," Riya added. Tyrion found himself sad.

"How far?" he asked.

"Where the cowards of dragons had flee too," Riya grunted.

"She is placing you with the remaining Targaryens," Tyrion stated. Riya nodded unimpressed with her new future. Riya then turned and rested her head on the shoulder of Tyrion. He looked down on her. It was a nice moment to say goodbye. Their friendship was about to be severed and neither of them knew if they're paths will meet again.


	12. Chapter 12: Elerosse Culnamo

**Elerossë Culnámo **

The breeze from the North felt like a warning. It brought the memories of history that was yet to spree from the grave it once rose from.

Whispers spoke to the lord of the elves and it certainly was not a promising future. In fact, it scared him. Chills ran down his back and through his soul. Finally he took him. He slammed his fist down on the desk and yelled. As his eyes looked up, he saw a steady standing elven man, Rúmil.

"Do I bring shame to your presence?" Elerossë asked his armoured friend.

"You do not, my lord," Rúmil replied as his eyes remained fixed in one spot. Elerossë released a chuckle and slowly rose to his feet.

Elerossë made his way to his large window in his study. He looked out to the great wall. The snow stained his eyes as he looked at the sadness that the wall brought since it was first created. Elerossë remembered that day. He was young. Very young. The whole land spoke about the great wall being completed. Men and elves from the south, north, east and west gathered together to see this legendary beauty come to life. But the excitement soon turned to bitter disappointment. The wall brought heart ache and separation. Nothing was true anymore. The day it was made was the day that Westeros would be forever cursed.

The elven marble shawn as the sun light hit it. It reflected the beautiful sky. Elerossë memories soon faded into the present situation he was in. He remembered Rúmil. His mind soon began to ask questions that his mouth couldn't say. He slowly turned back to his squire. His eyes slowly focused on the man of honour and he placed his hand gently on the end of his smooth marble table.

"You come to me bearing news. I can see it with in you. What words have you come to share?" Elerossë asked. Rúmil began to hold his strong posture and looked at his King.

"A letter from your daughter my lord," Rúmil paused as he brought out a scroll from his long light blue, silken cloak. He slowly placed it out in front of him. Elerossë took it and slowly began to open it. His eyes searched the words and placed together the news. His face slowly became more and more lost with the information within the letter.

"A goblin has gotten passed our protection?" Elerossë said in shock. Rúmil lightly nodded.

"There is more. This letter was not sent by a dove but a rider. He states something that was unable to be written," Rúmil spoke in elven before he paused and licked his lips. Elerossë focused carefully as he retreated back to his seat. "The goblin spoke. A small riddle yet a clue to the nightmares you fear most. Death is arising my lord. The Seven must be informed."

"The dead you speak of. What is it?" Elerossë asked curiously in hope it is not what he thought. Rúmil took a moment.

"The white walkers have risen from their graves," Rúmil replied in the common tongue. Elerossë closed his eyes and slowly gulped back his painful truth.

"We ride to Winterfell tonight. Tomorrow we ride to Castle Black. Have my horse ready. Now leave me," Elerossë demanded. Rúmil bowed and left the room.

After the door shut Elerossë realised his pain from the tears that left his eyes. He searched for a voice within him to answer him. Tonight was the night the elves were to leave their truth behind. He was scared. He had no idea what the world has turned to. Ned Stark was far south but his son, Robb Stark stood the ground. He would not dare send his elven men across the lands. Men have turned to horrifying barbarians and he would not risk their lives that come so rare to inform the King he didn't see fit to rule.

That night, Elerossë, Rúmil and eighteen of the kings most trusted elven warriors, set out to the kingdom of Winterfell. The elven men, women and children stood by the exit of the great realm casting flowers out in front of them. Fear rose from them. No one knew what could happen to their king and army. No one had ever stepped foot outside the realm in many years. The world was changing and the elven realm feared for the worst.


	13. Chapter 13: Papias Delnatte

**Papias Delnatte **

"Come on Papias! You can defeat this worthless scum!" yelled a tall man that stood in the crowd.

"Send this man to the seven hells!" yelled another man.

"This Crow is nothing against the Prince Beyond the Wall!" yelled one of the women as she held her spear high in the air.

"Warrior of White! Save the North!" a few people yelled together.

Papias stood strong with his well sharpened spear and strong oak shield. He kept his eye on the Crow from Castle Black. His face was covered in blood as it continued to stream down his face from the cut Papias left him just by his hair line. Papias felt his heart race and his lungs pant. He could tell the man was getting exhausted. His hands were bound as he gripped onto the small dagger in his hand. His hands slowly turned into a light purple. The cold made his hands brittle and slowly freeze together.

The man finally gave up and raised his hands up with the dagger held between them. He screamed and charged at Papias. Papias could see the tears slowly escaping the man's eyes as he charged at him for a last minute saviour. Papias dodged the man then kicked him in the ribs. The man fell into the snow and dropped the dagger. He squealed in pain and covered his side. Papias froze as he glared down at the man. Questions entered his head. He didn't want to kill him. He wanted to in fact save him. The cheers from the crowd disappeared from his mind. Complete silence entered him.

"Papias! Finish him my son!" yelled Mance Rayder. Papias shook out of his deep thought and glimpsed over to him.

Rayder had a large smile on his face that gave Papias a chill. He released a sigh then turned back to his Crow. He raised his spear in the air. The Crow slowly closed his eyes and released his final breath. Papias then quickly brought down the spear piercing the man's heart. The blood streamed out of the wound. The snow was drenched in the man's blood. Papias glared at it as it spread to his feet. Papias couldn't remove his eyes. Finally, the body was dragged away by two of the men. Hands touched his shoulders and pat his back. Papias turned and looked around. He gave a smile and slowly began to sneak off to his hut.

When he got there he dropped to the ground in front of a small fire. He watched the flames slowly rise. His mouth clenched together as he tried to think about everything. His eyes moved to his hands to see the man's blood, frozen. Papias jumped back in fear and quickly ran to the bowl of water by his bedside. He scrubbed it as hard as he could until his hands began to sting and blood began to squirm out of his skin. He cursed then grabbed a cloth and wrapped his hand. His eyes turned back to the fire as he pressed hard on the wound.

Papias jumped when he heard a quick shuffle into his hut. Standing there was the woman kissed by fire, Ygritte. Her smile was large and her excitement was unbearable. She looked down at his hand and her smile disappeared. She placed down her bow and made her way to his side. Papias watched as she removed her gloves and placed her cold womanly hands against his wound.

"Was this done by him?" she asked with concern. Papias gulped back and shook his head. Ygritte slowly looked up at him. She saw something off. "I have known you for my whole life. Never once have I seen such sadness," Ygritte stated. Papias rolled his eyes and parted from her.

"I am fine Ygritte. Don't worry about me."

Ygritte felt unwanted. She slowly rose and grabbed her bow. She gave a final glance to Papias then headed out. Papias looked back and felt a wave of relief. He didn't feel comfortable sharing anything with anyone. He loved Mance Rayder like a father but knew he would never understand Papias' recent hatred with torturing and murdering the Crows from Castle Black. Rayder's main focus was on destroying the seven. He had many followers and Papias knew Mance would have him killed if he doubted him. Papias' only way out was for a miracle of an escape.

"You are cursed Papias," Esmour said as he appeared from behind a hide.

"Cursed? How so?" Papias asked in confusion.

"You are a man of fifteen. A true man that shall one day take command of the seven. Or so Mance believes to be," Esmour paused and slowly sat down in a chair. His old wrinkled hands grasped the arm rests. "You of course know that. But you doubt his ways of getting there. It's true, to truly win you must be a monster, a barbaric soul, a murderer. There is something you should know my little lord," Esmour paused again. Papias glared at him intently.

"What is it Esmour?" Papias gulped back.

"You are no man of Craster. You are no true Wildling. You are a high born child of Lord Donnel and Lady Olenna Delnatte. Brother to Lady Cassella, Lord Geremy and Lady Morya Delnatte. You are a man, meant to rule the Kingdom of Retell," Esmour finished. He chewed his lip and looked up at Papias.

Papias' eyes were wide and uncertain. A life of a lie. His mind froze and his fists began to clench. Papias gulped back his thoughts and looked angrily at Esmour. His mouth went to open but couldn't. His teeth began to ache as they stayed clenched together.

"Sorry. I must be going," Papias said before he headed out. Esmour sighed.

Outside, Papias ran into Mance. Mance grabbed his shoulders and smiled. Papias quickly shoved him off and stormed away into the night. Mance glared then turned back to the hut. He let out a sigh and aggressively headed inside.

"You told him," Mance said as his fists clenched. Esmour slowly rose from his seat and headed to Mance.

"I told the boy what you should have told him many years ago. He knows his roots. It is now up to him on whether or not he wants to be his true self or what you want him to be," Esmour said with a finish and walked passed Mance. Rayder bit his bottom lip and threw a chair across the room. He let out a large growl and slammed down his fists to the ground. Papias was now a free man.


	14. Chapter 14: Selda Amcottes

Selda sat quietly as she listened to the whispers that spoke softly to one another.

Wondering the streets of King's Landing in a light brown, olden cloak often came of use to her. It was her best way of finding the truth of what was going on. She held little trust in the sworn swords and Varys. Her intent was to see if she could catch a hint of where Catelyn Stark had been held. After Varys informing her of her heading, Selda began to become more curious. The idea of not knowing made her mind spin. She stood quietly in a dusty ally as she listened intently to the southern folk. It wasn't long before the gossip began between the ladies.

"The Lady of the North is being held up in Lord Baelish's brothel," one of the woman whispered.

"What is she doing in King's Landing?" the other said in shock.

"I heard of Eddard Stark's son being attacked in his chambers," she responded.

Selda's eyes widened and she grinded her teeth. She quickly parted from her hiding and moved steadily to Littlefinger's place of whores. She bashed into the other people around her not focusing on what they had said after. Her mind focused on the path up to the brothel. She began to wonder what she would say or how she would go about confronting the Lady of Winterfell. That's when she stopped. What would she say? She had no reason to say anything. Catelyn hadn't done anything wrong. But why would she come in secret? Why didn't she want anyone to know? Her eyes began to become sharp and she continued in her path.

Once she arrived at the front of the brothel she saw half naked woman sitting on the ledge and giggling. Selda glared at the walls. The walls were a light grey stone. Dying flowers leaned over the ledge of the windows. A filthy place. Like any brothel, the look wasn't why people came. She removed her hood and gave it another look. Selda shook off her disgust and began to make her way inside.

As she entered, a naked woman sped across the room. Three other women danced naked in the corner with one of the sworn swords drinking wine and playing with his genitals. Selda glared in disgust. She turned to the side to see a large pink curtain. She saw the shadows of a woman slowly moving on top of a man. The smell was unbearable and the noise began to make Selda's ears ache.

"Looking for a service my lady?" Selda turned to see Littlefinger wearing a cunning smile.

"I am looking for service but not-" Selda was interrupted by another naked woman walking by and then sitting down on the sworn swords lap. "Not this type of service."

Littlefinger gave another smirk, "than what is it you need from me?"

"Private matters," she responded. Littlefinger nodded.

"This way," he said as he placed out his hand. Selda slowly began to make her way into the next room. Littlefinger followed close behind.

This room was better. It looked more so as a study. In the corner was a large bed with two large windows by it. Selda felt less disgusting in this room but the only thing that still got to her was the noise of the penetrating and moans from the other room. Little finger closed the door and walked over to a seat behind a large table. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable than looked up at Selda and smiled.

"Wipe that smirk off your face Petyr. This is no time to be a smug little bitch," she snapped. Littlefinger let out a small giggle and leaned over.

"Please, sit," he said. Selda looked down at the chair and then back at him. He released a sigh and began to rub his chin.

"Catelyn Stark. I know you are harboring her. Where is she?" Selda asked.

Littlefinger placed his hands on the desk and began to figure out what to say. Selda knew he was playing a game. She was in no mood to play today. His gaze looked up at her.

"Catelyn Tully has already come and gone. She came to see her husband, that is all," Littlefinger informed. Selda bit her bottom lip.

"If it is true what you say. Than how come she made her visit such a secret?" Selda asked.

"She did not explain."

"Oh fuck you," Selda said as she took a step forward. "I swear Petyr if you do not tell me why that bitch was here I will have your head on a pike and put it on display on the wall of Kings Landing. Now tell me why she was here!"

Littlefinger paused. He gave it a moment of thought before he gave her an answer. "Catelyn came here in question of the dagger that a murderer had after attempting to kill her son."

Selda gave a look of confusion, "who was the owner of this dagger?"

"Tyrion Lannister," Littlefinger responded.

Selda glared at him. She slowly fell down on the chair in front. Littlefinger watched her as she tried to find a way to put the pieces together. He had no idea what she would do with this information and in many ways he did not care. He wanted no harm to come to Catelyn but he valued his life more. Selda leaned back in the chair and rubbed her lips slowly.

"Interesting," Selda said quietly. Littlefinger gulped back.

"What are you going to do?" Littlefinger asked nervously but still trying to defend his image of a cunning man.

"Nothing. This is none of my concern and neither is yours. Let Lady Catelyn run on her beliefs. As long as it does not hit Cersei I do not care. Control it and make sure this doesn't get ugly," Selda said as she rose. Littlefinger nodded and escorted Selda out.

Selda began to walk back. She ran through the information she was given and found herself worried. She knew Tyrion had nothing to do with this attack. He had no reason to care for the cripple boy and certainly had no reason to murder him. This was Cersei and Jamie. Things began to fall in place. Bran saw them together and Jamie pushed him out of the window. This time, Selda was at a loss. How would she be able to help her beloved queen and close friend? This time, she wouldn't.


	15. Chapter 15: Sairalinde Culnamo

The day was coming to an end. Light became scarce and the land began to shut down for the night.

Screams of crows dove into Sairalindë's ears. She looked out at the North. This watch tower seemed more chilling and dangerous. Many men said to have ventured to far from the fort walls were said to have completely vanished. They weren't labeled as true but the idea of it still gave chills to even the bravest of warriors.

As her eyes glued themselves to the wall in the distance, Sairalindë began to see snow fall. Her eyes grew with shock. She quickly jumped from her seating and ran out of the tower. She looked around to see many of the elves that lived there, looking up at the sky. Sairalindë stepped out further into the path. She slowly raised her head and looked up at the grey clouds above. It has never snowed inside the mystical barrier surrounding the great realm. It had never snowed within the elven realm. Her eyes slowly came down in confusion as she tried to figure out what was happening.

"The barrier has been opened!" yelled an elder man in elven as he fell to his knees.

The lower corridor door slammed open. Eärendur and Fuin glared out to the confused and worried townsfolk. Eärendur rushed to the old man's side and slowly began to raise him to his feet. The old man collapsed again. He sighed as he felt an aching within him. The old man began to cry as he gripped onto Eärendur's clothing. A woman came and lightly pulled him off. Eärendur turned over to see Sairalindë glaring up at the sky. Fuin made his way beside her and Eärendur stepped to the other.

"Please tell me it has snowed here once before," she said as she gulped back. Fuin gave a look to Eärendur and gulped back.

"No my lady. Snow has never breached the seal," Fuin responded. Sairalindë slowly closed her eyes as she embraced the painful thought.

Just then, two riders came from the entrance. Sairalindë found their armour familiar and knew they were from the Elven castle. She quickly rushed to them and stood unsteady as she waited for them to tell her the news. One of them men slowly jumped off his horse and began to remove his white gloves. Fuin watched as his breath escaped the slits in his helmet. The other man then jumped off and stood beside the first man. The two bowed together in the presence of their princess.

"We bring news from Lord Elerossë Culnámo of the Elven Realm my lady," said the first man.

"What? Tell me what say him?" Sairalindë asked frantically.

"Lord Elerossë rides to Winterfell with Rúmil and eighteen of his trusted companions. Him and company than ride to Castle Black to inform the Lord Commander of the news given to us by the goblin. He ask that you return back to your previous bounding," the man finished as he stood strong in front of her. Sairalindë bit her lip.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"Yes my Lady."

"Then be off," she said holding her tongue.

Sairalindë watched as the men rode out of the fort. Her eyes ran cold and unwilling to compromise. She looked down at the ground that now seemed to be covered in the white bliss of winter. She shook off the sadness and frustration and headed to her previous seating. Fuin and Eärendur followed close behind.

As she entered her chambers she fiddled nervously with her fingers and lips. Her blue eyes began to become a rich red. Her hair stood on edge and her heart pounded through her chest. Her furry was strong and her intention was insecure. Sairalindë swiftly made her way over to the window and glared out at the wall once more. Her eyes glue to it. Screams from a distance began to fill her mind. An image suddenly burned in her mind. She saw the walkers. Cold and white. They're eyes beamed a bright blue and she could see the cheek bones clearly. It stared at her as black mist began to flow past it. She turned to see dead wildlings and men of the Night's Watch stand around her. Their skin so brittle. Half of their faces began to rot away. Her heart remained still. She was not afraid. Her eyes turned back to the blue eyes monster. He gave an emotionless face and suddenly raised his spear and yelled. Sairalindë felt his cold breath hit her and she fell to her bottom. Suddenly she was back in her chambers. Fuin and Eärendur kneeled around her. She blinked once more to make sure it was real.

"My Lady! Are you okay?" Fuin asked in elven. Sairalindë slowly sat up and rubbed her aching head.

"I saw it," she whispered. Fuin and Eärendur gave one another a look.

"What did you see?" Eärendur asked.

"His eyes were blue. Bright and blue. His face a chiselled bone. His skin white and his breath cold," she paused. "They are coming. I can feel them. The White Walkers. The Others."


End file.
